


Just Breathe

by qu33nb33



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Affects of Abuse, Child Neglect, Disordered Eating, Families of Choice, Gen, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qu33nb33/pseuds/qu33nb33
Summary: The kids were smart, there was no doubt. But they didn't really understand bigger concepts--and they shouldn't have had to. Life was adventure and fun, especially for three ten year olds and a thirteen year old.But adopting an abused and previously-homeless teen meant even the adults had to open up their minds a bit. And learn a thing or two about themselves and each other, as well.(Fair warning for shippers, this is a family-only fic! chapters set before, after, and during Shadow War)





	1. A Dollar Here, A Plea For Help There

**Author's Note:**

> this fic will mention and deal with a lot of things that may be triggering to some readers. please mind the tags and the before-chapter warnings! also the triplets are ten, webby is 13, and lena is 15, just because those ages felt more natural? theyre cartoon ages so they dont mean much to begin with really, but just for my own sake.
> 
> this chapter implies being poor/possible homelessness. if you're sensitive to that, please be careful
> 
> 98% of these chapters will be written from personal experience, but please feel free to correct me or offer alternatives if you feel the need to!

Before the Shadow War, as it had been named, the adults knew something was up with Lena. It wasn't so much that they expected her to be a living shadow made by Magica de Spell so much as they expected her to bring trouble. They were a family that could smell trouble a mile away, and Lena definitely had that smell.

The thing was, she never really caused any kind of trouble. Every now and then Beakley would catch Webby with a new bad habit, courtesy of Lena, and every now and then Lena would  _disagree_ on something. But none of that was outside the normal, even for a rebellious teenager.

At first, Beakley was certain things would go missing. They had full grown adults try to snatch things from time to time, and she would not have been surprised if any number of shiny trinkets or left out coins disappeared when Lena was around. The thing was, though, that they never did. Not a single penny went missing for months while Lena visited. Every now and then a few extra snacks would go missing, and one time half a loaf of bread disappeared, but Beakley didn't consider that theft. Food was free, as it should have been for a child.

There were even times when she  _wanted_ Lena to steal. Webby was small for her age, but Lena was  _sickly._ She had bags under her eyes, a weird appetite, and she was so, so thin. She didn't know how to ask--Lena would probably run away faster than answer, and she couldn't risk that--but she knew something wasn't right at home. But without evidence or a plea for help directly, there wasn't much she could do.

So she waited and kept an ear out. She didn't think Webby knew much about Lena's home life, and from what Beakley had learned of their relationship that was intentional. Webby sometimes implied that Lena thought herself to be a burden, and the idea made Beakley's chest ache. No child deserved to think that.

Then, one day, Lena actually did steal. To Beakley's knowledge it was the only time she had ever attempted it, which made it almost morbidly funny that it was also the time she got  _caught._  

It was cold outside, and Beakley had never seen Lena in anything other than her long sleeve shirts. Hardly any of them wore anything besides a basic outfit with environmental exceptions, so that wasn't too odd, but it had definitely begun to get too cold to be without a jacket.

She couldn't remember the exact date, and it didn't really matter. But she had walked into the kitchen right as she saw Lena's hand wrap around a ten dollar bill on the counter. It was so hesitant and guilty that Beakley instantly felt bad. It was obvious Lena didn't want to take it, and she watched as Lena picked it up slightly and then place it back down on the counter, dejected.

She couldn't do it. 

"Lena," Her voice was as soft as she could make it, but Lena spun around quickly and moved backwards in fear. Her back hit the counter and she stared up at Beakley with wide, guilty eyes. 

"I-I was-"

"It's okay." She kept her voice calm without sounding patronizing. "Take it, if you need it. I'm not going to be mad if you do." It wasn't even her money, it was probably Donald's or Launchpad's, but she would replace it and she knew they would feel the same. No one in the house wanted to see a child be cold or go hungry, and Lena seemed to be on a dangerous line of both.

"I don't. I'm sorry, I just... It was right there." Lena crossed her arms and looked anywhere but Beakley, obviously ashamed. Beakley was impressed that she had apologized, though, since normally getting an apology out of Lena was a long and painful process.

"Hm. Well, I'm sure it will be right there later, if you change your mind." Despite her better judgement telling her it wasn't a good idea, Beakley bent down to eye level to talk to Lena. "You don't have to tell me anything. But, if you need anything,  _anything,_ you are welcome to ask for it. Neither I nor Scrooge would turn away someone who needs help."

Lena was silent for a moment, and Beakley saw the tears that she quickly blinked away. "I don't need help." The familiar scowl was back in place on Lena's face, and Beakley smiled despite herself. At least Lena hadn't lost herself.

"Fine, fine." She stood and turned to walk back out of the kitchen, completely unaware of what she had entered for in the first place. "The offer stands, though."

She noticed later, after Lena had left, that the money was gone as well. The next time she saw Lena was two days later, and she wore a clearly new dark gray hoodie.

She felt oddly satisfied. But it was nowhere near enough.


	2. Sinking Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you didnt think this would ever update, huh!
> 
> tbh i didnt either. we all learned something new today
> 
> (heavy child abuse warning for this chapter, discussed and remembered but obvs not current)

Lena liked to think she was a practical person. Sure, she had been known to jump to conclusions, but they were always based off of solid evidence. It wasn't her fault that the Duck-McDuck-Vanderquack-McQuack family operated so differently than Magica did. It seemed like everything they did was the opposite of what Lena was used to. That tended to be stressful.

She watched as Donald paced angrily back and forth in front of her. She only understood about half of what he said, but he managed to get his point across. She had been reckless and irresponsible. She knew that the reason he was upset was because he had been scared that she would be hurt, but it was still terrifying to see him mutter and sulk and react angrily. He cared, and that was why he was upset. But she had thought Magica cared, and  _Magica_ was always upset--

She gripped the edge of the couch tightly. Normally she would lean back, maybe hang her head, look the part of the 'scolded child', but she couldn't that time. Mentally, she prepared herself for a hit she wasn't sure would come. There were plenty of things near him he could throw, if he decided to. Books on the shelves, a mug on the coffee table, various bowls and toys scattered around the room. Magica preferred to throw books, herself. Lena wasn't sure why.

Her eyes tracked him more than her mind did. It was instinct, at that point. With Magica she had learned it was best to just let her run out of steam. A tired Magica was easier to satisfy than an angry one, and injuring Lena was a decent way of tiring her out.

The thing was, though, that she had absolutely no idea if Donald would hit her. She felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air and answers as he went on a tangent about his own behavior as a kid. She had never seen him hit the other kids, but that didn't mean it didn't happen. It also didn't mean he never would. If she was the straw that broke that camel's back, she didn't think she had a right to complain.

At least he didn't call her names like Magica did. She hadn't been called stupid or useless since she started living with them, which she hadn't expected. She thought that even as nice as they were, they had to be able to call her out on it. Tell her the truth. Remind her why she was there to begin with.

But they never did. In fact, the few times she had implied she believed anything negative about herself they had all but come to her rescue. Webby especially didn't tolerate any negative words about her; even from Lena herself. It seemed they all didn't want her to think such things, which made her feel more at ease and somehow more stressed at the same time.

Because, after all, it all came back to that moment. Did they hit? Did they throw things when they got angry? Would they eventually realize that it didn't matter how they treated her, because she was only a shadow to begin with? She wasn't a child, she wasn't  _their_ child, when were they going to realize that?

"Are you going to hit me?"

She spoke before she could really think it through. One good thing about anxiety, at least, was sometimes it made her impulsive. And it was that impulsiveness that helped her open her mouth to ask.

Donald, for his part, turned and looked at her. At first his reaction was one of shock, as if he couldn't believe she had asked. She wondered if, somehow, she had done something wrong by asking. Was that rude? Insubordination? Disrespect?

"I-I mean," She spoke quickly to cover up her possible miss-step, "I guess Magica never told me when she would, but I don't--I don't know if--" And like that, her impulsive anxiety was gone. She no longer had the courage to pursue that line of thought, and she hung her head. "Sorry. I'm listening."

She didn't see Donald's expression change from sadness to outright anger. It was probably for the best that she didn't, lest she believe it was directed at her. It certainly wasn't.

"Lena," She didn't look up when he spoke to her, and she gripped the couch a bit tighter when he walked towards her, "No one here is going to hit you. That's not an acceptable punishment, okay? I'm angry because you worried me, and you didn't listen. But I'd never use that anger to justify hitting you, okay?"

For some reason that made her feel guilty. She felt like she had tainted the situation, somehow. Like just by existing she had poisoned the room they were in, and now that she had asked she couldn't be forgiven for doing so. She curled in on her self slightly as her shoulders tensed and her head hung lower. 

"Sorry."

He would probably hate her now, for assuming he would do so. He would think she was weird or mean or maybe she deserved it. She shouldn't have asked, she should have kept her mouth shut, she--

"Lena," He sat by her on the couch, not close enough to touch out of fear of scaring her, "You're not in trouble for asking. It was a fair question. Do you understand why I was upset?"

She nodded. "I could have gotten hurt."

He sighed in relief. "Yes, exactly. I don't want you to be hurt. Even if I'm the one that hurts you.  _Especially_ if I'm the one that hurts you." He moved closer so that they were shoulder to shoulder, still being careful not to touch her. "No one here would do that. Not me, or Scrooge, or Beakley, or Launchpad. We don't hit the other kids, either."

That was a relief, at least. She would rather she be the one that got hurt than any of the others if it came to that, but the fact that it wouldn't made her relax. She also realized with a growing calmness that he wasn't mad at her. Sure, he was still upset that she had gotten in trouble in the first place, but he didn't fault her for asking if she'd get hit. She realized that he knew exactly what to say to make her feel at ease and safe again. She'd never had someone pay that much attention to her before.

Her eyes burned and she made a pointed effort to not look at him as she started to cry. It frustrated her that she cried out of  _relief_ and not the fear or anger from before, but at least she felt calmer. She wiped at her face to stop the tears and felt just the tips of Donald's fingers on her shoulder. She knew what he was asking and, finally, she turned to face him and bury her face in his shoulder. She felt safer as his arms wrapped around her fiercely, like he was afraid she was going somewhere.

"Just... Be more careful next time, okay? And keep in mind we don't want to see you get hurt. It hurts us, when you kids end up injured. Physically or emotionally." 

She knew what he meant. Her question had obviously upset him in a way that her actions hadn't. He was upset that she had been hurt before, and he was upset that she thought she would be hurt again. He  _cared._

She wanted to thank him for it, but she didn't know how. She didn't think that you just thanked people for caring about you, but she wasn't really sure. Maybe, later, she would ask the other kids. They probably had answers to everything she was too scared to ask about. 

For the time being, though, she nodded and hugged him tighter. She hoped that he understood what she meant and how she felt. Given how he acted so far, she was pretty sure he did.

"I'll be more careful." She swallowed, unsure what else to say. Thankfully, he seemed to understand. He always seemed to understand, as she would soon learn.

"Good. Come on, let's do something together, okay?"

"Sure."

\- - - - - - - - - - - 

Later, after all the kids had gone to bed, Donald found himself staring at Beakley with his own questions. What Lena had said resonated within him, almost like the deep chime of a church bell. Even then, hours after the encounter, he felt the raw charge of fear of the idea that one of his own kids would think he would hit them.

Sure, Lena was new, but the idea hit him that somehow she hadn't known he  _wouldn't._ Maybe it was just her anxieties, and maybe he was just paranoid, but the idea... Hurt. It almost physically hurt him to imagine his kids fearing being injured by his own hand. No child should have to fear that.

"Have you ever hit Webby?" His voice was dry and curious. He didn't think Beakley was one for such punishment, but he could only hear the factual tone of Lena's voice in his head.

Beakley looked stunned at the question. "Goodness, no! She's never even gotten a spanking by me. I've never found such methods to be effective." She gave him a hard look; it wasn't judging or offended, just curious and hard. "What makes you ask?"

"Lena thought I would hit her." He swirled his drink around in his cup. It was just water, but he almost wished it was something harder. "I don't blame her, knowing where she came from."

Beakley was quiet and her eyes softened. It was no secret that Lena had it pretty rough with Magica. The witch hadn't even recognized Lena's personhood, something that was obvious to anyone that wasn't using her as a tool. They couldn't imagine what it had been like to be told that you weren't real for fifteen years. And even though Lena said she was only really herself for the past few years that was still far longer than anyone should ever have to deal with.

"She asked if you would?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm glad she did that, at least. She said she never asked Magica." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. His own demons haunted him, monsters and people alike from all the years he'd been alive. He'd had his own Magicas, so had Scrooge. He didn't know much about Beakley, but he knew she at least understood how they felt. "It makes me wonder what else she doesn't know about--about being treated decently."

And really, that was what it came down to. Lena flat out didn't understand being treated with basic decency. It scared them. They only saw glimpses beneath the surface, tiny hints at what her own inner demons told her. He hated it. 

Beakley hummed sadly. "I think you're doing an excellent job with her. She talks to you. As long as we keep her talking, I think we'll learn more in due time. I know a good therapist, though I think it will take a bit longer for her to be open to that idea."

A therapist was definitely an immediate need. It would take Lena a while to warm up to the idea, but Donald was going to insist on it. She needed someone to talk to, and he would feel a lot better if they could get her diagnosed with the PTSD he could already see in her. Not to mention the anxiety and the depression that she didn't know how to deal with.

"It's all eventual." He said wistfully, and Beakley gave him an amused look. Ever since the shadow war they shared moments like that; moments where he opened up to her and, in return, she showed how impressed she was with him. They still had their rivalry, but it was fun. It was family. 

"Indeed it is."


End file.
